


Sidestep

by hausos



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Friendship, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hausos/pseuds/hausos
Summary: Desmond saves the world, and ends up in a world or Heroes. Or something. He's mostly concerned about ending up an experiment. Again. Seriously, what was with his life?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I was thinking about how Nezu was a science experiment. Then my brain decided to put Desmond in, and all of a sudden Desmond and Nezu were Experiment Buddies and BFFs. And then I had to write it because the idea was too great not to use.
> 
> So, here we go. The Assassin Creed x BNHA crossover that no one really needs. IDK how long it's gonna be, or if I'm going to write more for it, but I had to put it out there.

Desmond seriously didn't get what the universe had with its whole _‘let’s put Desmond at a mad scientist’s mercy’_ thing, because it had happened too often to be fair. Then again, once was too much, and this was nearing… part three? He definitely counted the genetic engineering to be an event entirely on its own, so three.

One, his entire birth and the circumstances as to why he was born. Second, when he was kidnapped off the street by Abstergo. Third, here, in a place where people were interested in his Quirk, which, actually, did not exist.

0o0

0o0o0

0o0

Okay, so.

When Desmond had placed his hand on the Eye and made the wish to _save the world_ , and _get away from all of this_ , he hadn’t really expected anything. Well, other than death, at least. That had been expected. Juno really didn’t hide anything from them, too prideful to even think that the lowly humans could understand what she was saying. Which, for knowing what he was getting into, great. Not so great for actually going through with it.

He didn’t expect to be shoved sideways. This wasn’t his own world, that much was obvious. Oh, it shared cultures and histories and a lot of things that he recognized. Some of which he even had first hand experience in.

There just happened to be one, big, gaping difference between the two.

His world didn’t have fucking superheroes.

Oh, they didn’t call them superheroes. Just ‘Heroes’ and by hell if he hadn’t _heard_ the proper noun in there. And yeah, they called it ‘Quirk’ instead of superpower, but it boiled down to the same thing. He had no idea how he had landed into a comic book world.

Not that he had _noticed_ at first. Desmond had placed his hand on the Eye, and after an eternity that likely wasn’t more than a minute, woke in the Grand Temple. The Eye and its pedestal were completely gone, the Apple and the Key had disappeared, he had some fancy new tattoos and markings that he absolutely _did not think about_ , and he was alone.

Desmond did tell his dad, Rebecca, and Shaun to get as far away as they could, but he didn’t think they’d just disappear. He didn’t think that Abstergo would let the Grand Temple be, not with the end of the world on the line, and all of their plans down the drain. No matter what happened, Desmond expected _someone_ to be there.

No, he was alone. The Grand Temple looked the same, and even was in the same area. There simply was no evidence of anyone having been there in ages. No tire tracks, no footprints, no anything.

And when he looked with Eagle Vision, nothing, quite literally, meant _nothing_.

Though, it seemed that the energy the Eye gave out was like, a steroid on steroids or something, because his Eagle Vision was… well, different was putting it mildly. He put it firmly in the same category about his new tattoos that he was _not thinking about_ , and moved on.

So, instead, he did the Assassin thing and went looking for answers. The nearest town was familiar, but the people in it… were not. It wasn’t hard to notice, really. Humans tended not to have odd hair colors, skin colors, or extra appendages. At least not outside of Comic Con, and Turin was a _little_ out of the way for a convention.

Still, Desmond had spent the better part of a decade in New York City. He took a breath, made the appearances firmly not his business, and went to the nearest library.

There, he picked up the newspaper, reserved a computer for the rest of the day, and went into research mode.

0o0o0

Well.

Nothing was True, Everything was Permitted.

Right?

Right.

…

What the fuck was he kidding.

Desmond spent a decade in New York City, he’d actually hit _that_ particular internalization years ago.

0o0o0

Three Things Desmond had Learned About This Crazy New World He Lived In:

  1. Superheroes were a thing, as were superpowers. But they were called Heroes and Quirks instead. Because they didn’t want to confuse themselves with actual comic book characters, apparently.
  2. He had jumped forward in time by roughly two hundred years. In fact, the first recorded Quirks to come about were, in fact, _drumroll please_ , late August of 2013. Which was about nine months after the Flare. _Yeah_.
  3. There was no mention of Abstergo or its children companies, anywhere. Not even companies that could have been. So, still sideways even as he moved forward.



This of course, meant a few things for Desmond.

One, that it was likely there were no Assassins or Templars. It was a stretch, but it lined up with everything else that he had found out. It wasn’t an impossibility, just one he wasn’t going to expect. If they did, which at this point was a rather large if, then it was in a form that was not recognizable to Desmond in any shape, way, or form.

Two, any possible resources Desmond had prior was now gone. He literally had nothing but the clothes on his back. He didn’t even have a go bag, like before. At least he had his hidden blade still. It was a comfortable and familiar weight.

Three… well, he had gotten his wish. Desmond was now away from Assassins, Templars, the Isu, and the collective conspiracies and dramatics associated with them. Later he’d probably feel that particular lack, but right now it was almost a relief.

0o0o0

So.

What was an Assassin to do?

0o0o0

Well, firstly, he needed the necessities. Shelter and food, and the ironclad details of a shiny new identity.

It wasn’t the first time Desmond had done this, not by a long shot, but this world was much more advanced than his. Similar, and held back by the wars that popped up after Quirks were a thing, but more advanced. He needed to keep all of his stories and information straight, or someone paying attention would take notice.

So… Miles Guerrero. Miles, obviously, but Guerrero was his mother’s maiden name. He’d responded to Miles often enough for it to be comfortable. He kept the same birthday, but just changed the year to match the current year. He’d even kept his basic history the same, with the whole leaving an out of the way commune in the middle of nowhere to figure out his place in the world.

The thing was, he didn’t have a Quirk. And he didn’t need to do in depth study to know that simply announcing that he didn’t have one wasn’t a good idea. People in this place were so reliant, so dependent, and had such expectations of personhood in relation to a Quirk that he’d single himself out immediately.

But… for all the things that Assassins did, they didn’t lie for lying’s sake. For covers, sure, but Desmond really wasn’t making a _cover_. There was nothing he needed to hide from, not like before. This wasn’t protecting his identity, this was making it up.

He could say Eagle Vision was his Quirk. By the standards of this time, it worked. But he did not like the idea of using that particular inheritance as a superpower. And Hiding in Plain Sight was only _one_ of the hang ups, there.

Illusions?

That could work, except that was firmly in the situation of things Desmond was _not thinking about_. It was getting to be a pretty big list, honestly.

...Maybe he could just get away with not saying anything. He had a few other skills that could be mistaken, if not looked closer, as a much lower level Quirk. He’d let people make their own conclusions and not verify anything.

Well. It was a start at least. Now, to look for a place to stay…

0o0o0

It didn’t take long to set up. Turns out that the undersociety that he had gotten used to still existed. It wasn’t hard to find people who could make him fake IDs and all associated paperwork. He did have to pay them, but doing courier jobs wasn’t anything new.

And people still needed someone fast, efficient, and _discreet_ to transport documents and other small items. Not something he honestly expected to do again after he hit his twenty-first birthday and Bad Weather could legally hire him, but whatever paid the bills.

Surprisingly, Desmond found himself enjoying his new life. It was different enough to keep his attention, but similar enough that he fell back into his training with ease. There were still bars that needed bartenders, especially ones well-trained and experienced like him. That he knew some rather ‘classic’ mixes was a bonus.

(Honestly the best part was that Desmond was catching up on two centuries worth of alcohol and related developments. Fuck, but the drink scene was _amazing_ , he honestly was having the time of his life-)

He also made new friends and coworkers. These were all strangers, with quirks and Quirks of their own, and Desmond sort of felt at peace. He wasn’t running or hiding from anything. There was no reason to keep moving from place to place. He could actually settle and make a proper life for himself, and it was… nice.

Yeah. It was nice.

Too bad it couldn’t last.

0o0o0

Desmond woke up, groggy, with a hangover to the extreme. Strange, he could hold his drink remarkably well, and knew not to go overboard.

But the feeling of it- that was familiar. He had a headache, and he couldn’t move very well. All it was missing was being strapped into a machine that would slowly break his mind.

He blinked, and looked blearily around, and then bit back a curse. It wasn’t bright white or empty and lack of color like Abstergo had been, but Desmond recognized a sterile, medical room when he saw one.

“Seriously? Not this shit again.”

0o0

0o0o0

0o0

Which is how Desmond ended up here. It wasn’t a very nice place, all things considered. Quirks were biological, or worked with the body, and apparently they were curious about his. Desmond honestly didn’t know what Quirk they _thought_ he had.

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was taken to a place that he did not want to be, and wanted out of. Depending on how he was treated, _how_ he escaped would differ. Upper end, just knock everyone out, wipe as much of the computer information as possible, and leave. Lower end… well, just because he _did not think about_ certain things didn’t mean he didn’t know what possibilities lied there. Especially as a last resort.

So far, it was limited to only physical exercises. Desmond did those easily, well aware that most everyone thought his Quirk was a physical mutation rather than any other power. Something, something, eyes. He honestly never paid attention, and people never asked. Information about Quirks was offered, but never demanded.

He acted rather passive. Assassins tended to react to things rather than make the move on their own, and here he would do the same. It allowed him some liberties, even as he wore thick bracelets on his wrists. They were pretty fancy shackles, and only slightly uncomfortable. He could easily pick the lock on them when he found the proper tools.

Desmond would have done that literally hours after he was kidnapped, save for one thing.

He wasn’t the only person here.

There actually were a lot of people here. This group wasn’t like Abstergo, who used a singular person until they died, and then picked up someone new. Rather, they constantly kept a group of people, doing many different experiments in the process.

Desmond didn’t _know_ , but he had the feeling that his trials were actually the least demanding of them all. Which didn’t sit right with him at all. In fact, considering the _size_ of some of the people here… it was rather infuriating. And an Assassin riding the high of righteous fury was much more inclined to do something ridiculously stupid and dangerous.

So, he stuck around, waited, and observed. He wasn’t risking only his life by escaping, now. There were others here that he needed to rescue and bring along with him. And to do that, he needed as much information as possible.

They were on a strict schedule, so Desmond could actually keep track of time. Almost a week later, thankfully less insane than his stint in Abstergo left him, and something finally happened.

0o0o0

“Well, that’s new,” Desmond said, watching the small white… creature.

He couldn’t tell what it was, honestly. It seemed to have all the features of a mouse, bear, or a dog. But it was a prisoner same as he was, if that bright, red, new scar along its forehead was any indication. And the shackle it had around its neck, which matched Desmond’s.

The small creature stirred from the small pallet it had been placed on, blinking tiredly and wary at the new surroundings it found itself in. It tried to stand on its feet, but hissed in pain and stumbled to the side.

“Take it easy,” Desmond said quietly, but made no move to soothe the creature. For one, that seemed like a good way to be attacked in this place. Not even the scientists just barged in when they were asleep.

The creature looked at Desmond, and he very carefully didn’t react. That was intelligence in those glittering black eyes. He looked off to the side, keeping his peripheral on the creature, but his direct gaze away. Let the creature decide if Desmond was a threat or not.

They were being observed tightly, but there was no audio surveillance in his room. Oh, the entire cell was blanketed red when he used Shao Jun’s ability to _look_ and _know_ when she was in someone’s line of sight, but none of it was audio.

And this creature was glowing pale blue and rimmed in gold. A potential ally that glowed with _importance_ , if neutral at the moment. Desmond recognized the colors he had gleamed through the walls. This one was someone he wanted to keep an eye on.

The least he could do was introduce himself. He angled his head away so that the cameras couldn’t pick up his mouth when he spoke. “Hey. Could have been much better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you, I guess. My name is Desmond. Though you should call me Miles when the scientists are around.”

The creature looked at him, studying him intently.

Desmond wondered what they saw. He knew what he looked like, when people didn’t know him. Attractive, but easy to forget. A face that was familiar. Tall and thin. Kind of a background character. Hiding in plain sight was actually one of the skills he mastered when he was a child.

“Nezu,” the creature said. Desmond resolutely did not flinch in surprise. Instead, he categorized the sound. It was high pitched, to match the size, and androgynous. There was a hint of an animalistic growl that Desmond, with his messed up priorities as an Assassin, found cute. Nezu sighed heavily, and delicately sat on their haunches. “My name is Nezu.”

“An animal with a Quirk, huh?” Desmond asked out loud, but away from them, “I’m guessing that’s why they grabbed you too.”

Nezu snorted in agreement. “High Spec, they call it. I’m quite literally the smartest person in any given room.”

Oh, that was _useful_. Desmond hummed. “So, why did they place you in here with me, then?”

Nezu eyed him, as if wondering if Desmond was only humouring them or not. “I’m assuming that they found some connection to exploit between the two of us. Have they taken any of your blood recently?”

“Yes,” Desmond sighed. Nothing he could really do about it at this point. He just had to find it all and destroy it before he left, is all.

“Ah, you must be one of my donors, then,” Nezu said, still watching him.

Desmond went very still for a singular moment, before he sighed and started fidgeting like a normal person. Hopefully their watchers took that as sheer surprise instead of an Assassin’s stillness before death. “Well, fuck, I’m sorry about that,” he said.

DNA wasn’t found only in blood, but blood happened to be one of the easiest carriers of it. And Desmond knew quite well that his DNA was rather… unique, all things told. Fucking genetic engineering.

Nezu appraised Desmond. “You are planning something, are you not?” What a leap of logic to make. Though if their Quirk really was hyper intelligence, it made sense.

Desmond looked to Nezu. If they cared at all, then they didn’t show it. If the experiments these mad scientists did to Nezu with Desmond’s blood held, at all, then this little creature was now his responsibility.

“You can say that,” Desmond said slowly, keeping his face away from the cameras. “How do you feel about a jailbreak?”

Nezu blinked slowly at him. Then they grinned, and it wasn’t a very nice grin at all. “Oh, I would not mind at all.”

0o0o0

Desmond sighed and stretched his arms above his head, sighing as his spine popped. His wrists were red and rubbed raw from the shackles, but now they were covered with some bandages as they healed.

Nezu had some around his neck as well, and some medicine and smaller bandaids taped over the red scar. It hadn’t healed nearly enough to be left as it was, in Desmond’s opinion. Everyone else they managed to break free had also been tended to, though some needed more attention than others. There was nothing life threatening, at least.

Behind them, the facility they were in was in disarray. That kind of thing happened when Desmond decided to raid a place. He actually felt kind of proud that there was so little blood, even if the bodies were decidedly numerous. It helped that he had found all vials of his own blood, the rest of the prisoners’ blood, and the information the scientists had gathered.

Desmond had made sure to grab as much of it onto a USB as he could before deliberately trashing the place. It helped that they kept their servers in the building. Turns out that their mad scientist lab was illegal! Who knew? Either way, everyone had enjoyed the stress relief after being cooped up for however long they were there for.

Which reminded him.

“Should I stay, or leave?” Desmond asked Nezu, who had climbed to his shoulders, clinging to them tightly. He said he liked the vantage point. Desmond thought he just liked being tall. “Not used to just staying after I kill pretty much everyone in a building, if I’m honest.”

“Stay,” Nezu said, nudging his cheek affectionately. He was rather tactile, all things considering. Probably the cat in him. And the severe isolation, but that was a sad thought, so Desmond pushed it aside. “You have a life you were taken from, you said. All of these people were Villains, and the Heroes and police will understand why you did it.”

“You sure?” Desmond asked dubiously. Times were modern enough that he was certain the police would have issues with a single man killing more than a dozen people.

“It was clearly self defense,” another of the prisoners pointed out. They had deep blue skin and pastel blue hair and eyes. Desmond liked them because they had the rather handy Quirk of hydrokinesis, and had helped clean everyone up. Turns out killing a bunch of people tended to be messy, if you weren’t trained in it like Desmond was. “And you weren’t the only one to kill people.”

No, no he was not. Not by a long shot. Not everyone did, but neither did anyone here really feel particularly _guilty_ about what had happened, either. Even those with the worst hang ups grit their teeth as they took care of the four children Desmond had found in other cells.

Desmond sighed. He really wasn’t used to sticking around after he had killed people. Not even with people who knew that he had killed prior to this, during this, and likely would again. Not that he thought anyone would tattle, really, but it was still unusual.

What was even more unusual was that these people didn’t seem to care. Yeah, being experiments for some mad scientists sort of skewed their priorities, but you’d think they’d throw up more of a fuss at the sudden jailbreak.

Either way, he had somehow ended up as the leader of this motley group of people. Modern times these may be, but it seemed that he ended up with a bunch of Assassin-adjacent people. Kind of reminded him of the people Connor had actually found and brought to the Homestead, actually. Good people overall who might not go for murder as their _first_ option, but it wasn’t off the table, either.

“Yeah, okay,” Desmond said, shrugging, careful with the motion since Nezu was riding his shoulders. “I guess we should call the police.”

0o0o0


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a couple months, but i've not abandoned this work! i just had to wait for the inspiration to strike me to continue.
> 
> desmond and nezu continue to make the weirdest best friends. there's a lot of stuff that went on in the background of this that i absolutely did not get into, and i wanted to get into actual setting that i'm familiar with instead of going off on my own stuff.
> 
> here we will be getting into the canon-divergence, where desmond and his weird not-order of assassins will basically adopt an entire school's worth of kids when nezu becomes principal.

Desmond honestly didn’t understand how he wasn’t under some more supervision. Or how the investigation after they called the police wasn’t more intense. Surely someone somewhere looked at the group of eleven adults and four children, the dozens of dead bodies, and decided to, oh, _look into what happened_.

“Seriously, what the fuck,” Desmond muttered to Nezu, who still clung to his shoulder.

He wasn’t sure if the… authorities realized that Nezu wasn’t a human with a rather odd Quirk or not. From what he saw, the sheer variety that humans presented with Quirks sort of made it a non issue. Well, Desmond wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Besides, Nezu was a _person_ , and that should honestly be all that anyone ever needed to know.

“Roll with it,” Nezu advised. He twitched his nose in a direction, and Desmond followed where he pointed to-

Oh. There was a woman who watched everyone with wide startling solid blue eyes. She had the visible Quirk of thick, prehensile, forest green hair. She had used it to great effect in helping them escape, as she could easily tear doors off their hinges when her hair was let free. And she apparently had a secondary Quirk that helped… smooth things over.

Curious, Desmond slipped into Eagle Vision (on steroids) to see what exactly was happening.

 _Oh_ . That was honestly pretty cool. She had a pretty strong _notice-me-not_ aura that interacted with the world. It looked like a hazy blue mist clung to them all, camouflaging those that she wished it to.

Desmond inclined his head to the woman in thanks and acknowledgement when she looked to him, having felt his attention on her. She smiled slightly and nodded in return. She hadn’t spoken much since they were freed, but he felt that was mostly by personality than not.

“Do we have a plan about what we’re going to do?” Desmond asked, turning his attention away so that she could concentrate. He had been told by one of his coworkers that he had an unsettling gaze if he focused too hard. Probably the Eagle Vision.

Desmond stood back from where the police were dealing with the children. The police glowed a friendly blue under his gaze, which made him relax. The others all took their cues from him, so it wasn’t as tense as it could be. It wasn’t comfortable by any means, but no one would be attacking each other here.

“It depends,” Nezu said, nose twitching as he watched the people they escaped with. They were kind of their responsibility now, weren’t they? “We will help those with families to return to them. And those that do not, we will help find homes. With us, wherever we go, or on their own, wherever they wish.”

“Well, yeah,” Desmond agreed, “But I meant _us_.”

And, wow, they really became a unit pretty quickly there, didn’t they? Not that he _minded_ , but it was a bit odd to go from strangers to sticking together this tightly in less than a week. It wasn’t codependence, really, but Desmond figured it’d be pretty hard to tell on the outside.

Nezu paused, and _huffed_ . Desmond waited for him to figure himself out. High intelligence didn’t necessarily translate to _emotional_ intelligence. Sure, Nezu would figure how he felt about things as they came to him much quicker than humans would, but there was still a learning curve.

“We will return to where you made your life, and go from there,” Nezu said, shifting closer and nuzzling Desmond’s cheek. His whiskers itched. “We’re still in the upswing of a traumatic event. I’m sure we’ll all be seeing nightmares of _some_ sort soon enough.”

“No doubt,” Desmond agreed wryly.

He looked to the police, and the trauma counselors they had on hand. They weren’t the therapists they would need, but they were a step in the right direction. Desmond processed trauma at an accelerated rate after the Animus, so he was fine. Probably. But the counselors glowed a bright and cheery _blue_ that made him inclined to trust them with the bare bones.

Honestly, he trusted them to help everyone _sincerely_ . Desmond thought he might actually go see a therapist for the mess that his brain held faced with that _blue_. Surely these counselors would point him in the direction of a trustworthy one.

What an odd realization, if a welcome one. He really liked the change of pace.

0o0o0

Okay, so Desmond’s ragtag group of human experiments decided to, somehow without his conscious decision, decided that the best course of action was to form a vigilante group. One that spanned however far they all lived; those with families went back to them while those without decided to stay.

Desmond blamed Nezu. For all that Nezu stuck close to Desmond, most often on his shoulders, he also had silent conversations with the others. And because Desmond was _polite_ , he had refrained from listening in on those discussions.

Maybe he should have? It wasn’t really a decision that he had anything _against_ , but it was something Desmond would have liked a _word_ in somewhere along the way.

“It is not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” Nezu said pointedly.

“I know, but a heads up _would_ have been nice,” Desmond sighed.

Nezu’s nose twitched. It was his version of an apology, and Desmond let it go. He trusted Nezu not to make any decisions that Desmond wouldn’t agree with outright. He didn’t think that he was that complicated, really, and Nezu was much smarter than he was.

Besides, Desmond wasn’t going to lie to himself. He had a lot of different people in his head, all of them Assassins or related to Assassins. Several of them were Mentors in their own right, too. With lifetimes of experience now at his recall, Desmond was getting _lonely_.

Having a group of people with their own abilities, and a willingness to be trained? Even without thinking about it too hard, Desmond mentally reached out and gripped tight. Having his own little Order, if a little unorthodox and different to the Assassins, settled something in his gut he hadn’t realized was out of sorts. Nezu, the brat, probably realized that too.

The thing was, an Order took _resources_ . Training, supplies, buildings… with Ezio and Connor, two of the most prominent ancestors he had, Desmond wasn’t hurting for experience in these matters. But how things were done centuries ago was different to how things were done _now_ . Still, a solid base of an idea of _what_ to do was better than none.

Still…

“You know, you’re going to help me with a lot of this, right?” Desmond asked Nezu. “Especially since we have the kids to worry about still. We can’t do wrong by them.”

Nezu rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. Don’t worry about it. We’ll have a rough beginning, but we’re not going into this blindly.”

Desmond hummed. “Should I be worried that none of us care that we’re planning on doing something utterly stupid and crazy?”

Nezu, of course, didn’t bother answering him. The answer was obviously _no_.

0o0o0

And that was how Desmond ended up Mentor of his Not Quite Brotherhood of Assassins. It was more like the Order of Vigilantes (Who Sometimes Killed People, But Only Those That Deserved It).

First order of business was getting everyone therapy. It was mandatory and since it was one of the things Desmond was Actually Serious About (alongside free will and consent and all that entailed), the others didn’t object. It helped that Desmond also went for therapy, searching for one that was a solid blue and that didn’t offend any of him.

Second order was teaching his motley Order on how to deal with people. Sometimes people just needed a stern talking to for them to stop them from whatever problems they were causing. Sometimes they needed a couple of good punches. Sometimes they just needed to die. It all depended, really, and Desmond did his best to impart how to make that decision.

Which was strange, and something he really didn’t think he’d _ever_ teach, but whatever. His life was already strange enough, might as well do this too.

0o0o0

“I’m home,” Desmond called, yawning as he locked the door behind him. He kicked his shoes off, dropped his keys and wallet on the counter, and then dropped face first into the couch. It was one of the most expensive things in the apartment, and oh so worth it.

“Welcome home,” Nezu said. Desmond heard his soft footfalls and the scent of tea. Nezu had started drinking tea near religiously since he had been introduced to the drink. “My, you’ve had a long day.”

Desmond turned his face to the side so he could look at Nezu. He wore a suit tailored to his small stature. He had, in Desmond’s opinion, the _weirdest_ fascination with suits. Desmond honestly didn’t know where Nezu got it from. Desmond did have trousers and white button-up shirts, but those were his work uniform, and nothing like the fancy stuff that Nezu liked.

“Yeah,” Desmond agreed. He didn’t care for tea one way or the other, but it had a comforting smell at this point. “How about you? It was your turn to watch the kids today, right?”

Though four of the adults had returned to their homes, the children were, effectively, orphans. It had been a fight and a half to keep the children with them but they had managed it. They were _very_ lucky- made all the easier when one of them had the Quirk to manipulate probabilities. And that one of the children had the power to manipulate emotions. It sort of made things very easy when they wanted something done and none of them cared about dubious legality.

...though Desmond had made _certain_ to impress the concept of consent and free will on Yuki. Emotional manipulation had the potential to go very bad, after all. It might’ve not been the usual Quirk counseling conversation that children normally went through but it worked well enough.

“It went well,” Nezu said, and sipped his tea. “I took them to the park today, and they found some other children.”

“That’s a good thing, them making friends in their own age group,” Desmond said. He watched Nezu curiously. “What about the other children grabbed your attention?”

“Not those children, though young humans are always fascinating,” Nezu said, shrugging, “But the fact that I taught them some physics. And they took rather well to it.”

Which could mean anything from simple leverage to how stars were born and died. Nezu didn’t have a middle ground for those sorts of things. Desmond blamed it on being raised in a lab for most of his formative life. And then meeting Desmond, who also didn’t have a middle ground either. Desmond either didn’t know something, or he _knew_ it, thanks to how he was born. Thank you genetic engineering.

“Did you like teaching them? The other children, not ours.” Desmond asked.

Because Nezu took to helping their people like it was a logical necessity. The others were _theirs_ , and that implied rather a lot of responsibility. Responsibility that Nezu took to well.

Nezu blinked at Desmond, surprised, like he hadn’t thought of that. He hummed in thought, bringing his paw to his chin. “I do believe I did,” Nezu said.

Desmond snorted amusedly at him. For all his intelligence, Nezu was very much like a child still. Well, he did only have a few months of actual life experience. Desmond wouldn’t hold it against him.

“You want to take up teaching?” Desmond asked.

“I don’t know,” Nezu said slowly, thoughtfully. “It requires some thought.”

And such thoughts would include things like whether or not Nezu wanted to inflict himself on others. Their people were one thing because they were _theirs_ , and Desmond had learned that Nezu was incredibly possessive.

But teaching others would require interacting with people not their own, and that was different. Nezu didn’t bother thinking about it when it came to teaching the children. They were a community, and the community looked after their own.

Teaching others, though, would mean interacting with and influencing their lives. And there was very little that Nezu took as seriously as that.

“Start with our kids in a more formal role,” Desmond advised, “And perhaps even some of the others, who would like more hard knowledge. They would be a good starting place to see how you feel about it.”

Nezu made an agreeing noise. Desmond pressed his face back into the couch and left Nezu to his thoughts. The idea was planted and now Nezu could figure out where to go from here. Desmond would be surprised if Nezu hadn’t made any plans like this sometime in the past.

Honestly, Desmond was just going along for the ride at this point.

0o0o0

Desmond sighed as he watched Wren, the eldest of them, soared around the top of the skyscraper. Even the shades that stood next to him, see-through images of ancestors long dead, stared to watch her.

He wasn’t jealous. He really, absolutely wasn’t jealous. He didn’t wonder what it was like to fly under your own power, or what having actual wings was like. He didn’t think about how it would be to instinctively _know_ the patterns in the wind.

“Desmond, I’m ready!” Wren called, doing a twist in the air. Her wings spread and she hovered in front of him, solid black eyes sparkling even from here.

Desmond stood and stepped closer to the edge of the skyscraper. Logically, he should absolutely refuse to do this up here. If something went wrong, something would go _wrong_.

Then again, he was an Assassin, and Wren had her wings to catch her. If they couldn’t do this combined Leap of Faith up here with nothing to catch them, then there really was no where else they could.

“Alright!” Desmond returned, and closed his eyes.

There were many things Desmond simply _wasn’t thinking about_ , especially in regards to his fancy new tattoos and the thousands of ancestors he now had access to. But Desmond had his Eagle Vision even before he found himself here in a sideways future, and there before him was an eagle.

Wren was one of the two that was an _Assassin_ in all but name. And she trusted _him_ when he explained that he had abilities outside of a Quirk. Enough so that she trusted Desmond to experiment with her when he explained what one of those abilities were.

(Thanks to Bayek, who Desmond still wasn’t sure was _actually_ an ancestor or if being the spiritual-founder or an entire Order counted enough by Isu standards. Or hell, even if Bayek was just chilling out as a fucking ghost, because why the hell not, Quirks were a thing. Why wouldn’t ghosts and other supernatural shit be a thing too?)

Considering where they met in the first place, Desmond was a bit dumbfounded by that trust.

So, Desmond took absolute care to reach for that aspect of Eagle Vision in which he could see through the eyes of other animals. Connor’s daughter had the ability, which was where he got the knowledge of how to do this. And from working with Nezu, who wasn’t human and therefore was the one Desmond tested if it _worked_ at all with.

And Wren, was like her name implied, very animal-like even in her humanity. So Desmond reached with his senses to the energy that all living things radiated. Wren’s color was a very solid and cheerful blue, and since she was expecting it- she accepted and welcomed Desmond’s own presence alongside her own.

_“Desmond?”_

That was Wren’s voice, somewhere to the side and back of Desmond.

_“It’s okay. We’re both here. Open your eyes.”_

Desmond opened his eyes.

0o0o0

“I have a question,” Nezu asked one day, a couple of years since they first met. Much had changed, but a lot of it really hadn’t.

“I’m probably not going to like this, am I?” Desmond asked but turned to Nezu anyway. Nezu had a pretty clear grasp on what Desmond did and did not like at this point.

Desmond put down his notebook where he had been keeping track of their finances. Ezio was too strong a shade, the son of a banker for all that they were also Assassins, for Desmond to let anyone else handle it. The last time he tried, Ezio had stared disapprovingly at him until he picked it back up again. Strangely, that was such a _Claudia_ expression that Desmond refrained for another day just to experience the actual hilarity of it.

Nezu took a breath to look at Desmond. “Can you tell me which school would be the _best_ for me to head to?”

Desmond hissed a breath and closed his eyes. “You know it’s not actually fortune telling.”

Still, he started making plans on the best way to _look_. Nezu so rarely asked for anything of importance that Desmond never refused him a request. His coworkers often commented that Desmond was kind of a pushover when it came to his people.

“No, but I’ve done enough research into places that I would like to visit that you should have an idea of which place is the most important,” Nezu pointed out, “And just because you don’t like _thinking about it_ doesn’t mean that some of your abilities don’t work similarly.”

Desmond sighed. “Fine. I’ll _look_ after dinner.”

Nezu nodded, knowing that Desmond wasn’t actually stalling. Dinner and food was important.

An hour later saw Desmond carrying Nezu up the tallest skyscraper their small city had. Heights absolutely worked the best for this sort of thing, and this was a rather important decision all told. Nezu was finding a place to start his career after all.

“So, what are you looking for?” Desmond asked when they reached the top.

He took a deep breath, thankful for the fresh air. It was clean this high up. It wasn’t as tall as being on top of the crane in New York, but it was familiar enough. If Desmond closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he was there, with Rebecca and Shaun in his ear.

Damn, but Desmond _missed_ them.

Not the time.

Nezu handed Desmond his folder of choice locations and climbed to his shoulder, gripping his hoodie for better balance. “I’m looking for some place that is as chaotic as our own people can be,” Nezu said.

Desmond snorted at that. “Yeah, the chaos grows on you,” he admitted.

They weren’t Assassins because Desmond made the very conscious decision to _not_ re-create the Order in this time and place. But they were still as close as Assassins as they could get, and their lifestyle required some strong personalities. And all those stubborn wills all together made life interesting, that’s for sure.

“Yes,” Nezu agreed. He rubbed against Desmond’s cheek. “My choices are all excellent choices, of course. But I’d like the one that _I_ can help the most, and where the children need _me_ and my own skills the most.”

“So, as chaotic as our own can be,” Desmond said. “Just like you said.”

“Yes,” Nezu patted and started running his paws through Desmond’s hair.

“Alright then,” Desmond said.

He _focused_ , spreading his senses outwards as he went through the papers that Nezu handed him. Each was a short dossier of each school Nezu had looked at and applied to. There was how many students were there, the teachers, what they taught and specialized in, their reputation and which country it was in.

Desmond flipped through each of them before a paper _glowed_ at him.

“Here,” Desmond said, and pulled the glowing golden piece of paper out. He held it up so Nezu could see it clearly.

“Oh, that one is interesting,” Nezu said, twitching his nose in thought.

“It’s also out of the country,” Desmond pointed out.

“Like that’s ever stopped us,” Nezu said amusedly, in reference to all of the side-missions that he and Desmond went on. Couldn’t be a Vigilante Order without traveling of course.

“It hasn’t, but a teaching position is a bit different than just visiting places,” Desmond said.

“I know, but there’s much that I can do there,” Nezu said. He sighed and pressed closer. “I do not like that I will be so far away from our people, but it will be beneficial in the long run.”

“Yeah,” Desmond agreed ruefully, already making plans on who to leave in charge while he and Nezu traveled. “I guess we’re going to Japan.”

0o0o0

Desmond whistled as he stared up at the high school building that Nezu would be teaching at.

Nezu, of course, was aiming to be principal, where he would have the most power to do as he wished. But that was a ways off yet, and Nezu would be teaching the would-be heroes in the meantime.

The entire building glowed golden, and it saturated everything. Desmond eyed it, and came to the realization that something very, very important would be happening here in the future. Not that it wasn’t important _now_ , of course, but most of this school’s history-making power would be happening in the future.

And Desmond watched as that golden glow enveloped Nezu as part of itself. It was both awe striking and sad, watching as the connections formed between the two.

“It’ll be fine,” Nezu promised from Desmond’s arms, reaching up to pat him on the cheek. “I will be here, and you are welcome to visit at any time.”

“I know,” Desmond said, and pressed his cheek to Nezu’s head. “And you’ll do great, of course.”

“Of course,” Nezu agreed. “You will as well. Like this, we can spread our influence.”

Desmond nodded. Next to him, the shades of his ancestors look around, curious and content. This was a step that they were all familiar with, if not one in the manner they’d ever done themselves. But Mentors were all teachers at heart as implied by the title, and stepping into a school was comforting.

“I’ll bring everyone to visit when you become principal,” Desmond said.

Desmond really did look forward to see what Nezu would do with this place.

0o0o0

 


End file.
